Aporetica

What happens when the dream is over And What Now Of Dreaming And what now of dreaming? We’ve failed the planet has published our failures. Our crimes are perpetual methane and sweltering, arrogant and endless— poor fucks we are, breathing mindlessly as the marsh grass floods, and here comes the supermoon again, like it’s so special. Article continues after advertisement Weak and disordered become the governments, disquiet rules us now. Onward, I thought, and so we were obscured. The snow goes to the gallows of a warm grass and what survives? Seasons grow immodest, the bullet sun does parch  and drive us migratory in search of new and fertile fields. Article continues after advertisement The long drought makes blaze the plankton makes smoke the oceans  and insincere the governments— a demise indelicate. We’re in a deep jelly now no cause for applause  but try a little clemency my body is warm today, and yours, we have this small span of time and in

The Course of a Particular Today the leaves cry, hanging on branches swept by wind, Yet the nothingness of winter becomes a little less. It is still full of icy shades and shapen snow. The leaves cry . . . One holds off and merely hears the cry. It is a busy cry, concerning someone else. And though one says that one is part of everything, There is a conflict, there is a resistance involved; And being part is an exertion that declines: One feels the life of that which gives life as it is. The leaves cry. It is not a cry of divine attention, Nor the smoke-drift of puffed-out heroes, nor human cry. It is the cry of leaves that do not transcend themselves, In the absence of fantasia, without meaning more Than they are in the final finding of the ear, in the thing Itself, until, at last, the cry concerns no one at all. – Wallace Stevens *** Steven Wallace said... “The poem means what the poem says, but what

Poem The mouth  the eyes two  my finger tips place inside the space the architecture of sound I'm listening to Zelenka this Pascha  sounding my affect I'm telling my friend it's passion but it's really the sound of breaking in  two  Points in a wave  an arrangement of sorts the water of sound finds the hairline crack the lowest point the raja and the octave the one and the all. FT-Lynch, Easter 2019 *** The following is a poem from  Be With , winner of the 2019 Pulitzer Prize.  The Sounding What closes and then luminous? What opens and then dark? And into what do you stumble but this violet extinction? With froth on your lips. 8:16 a.m.  The morning’s sleepy face rolls its million eyes. Migrating flocks of your likesame species incandesce into transparency. A birdwatcher lifts her binoculars. The con- tinuous with or without your words situates you here (here (here)) even while y

American Football 'LP3' Superb collection of refined and stylised songs - With clean arpeggiated guitar arrangements ('guitar lattices') Awash in hypnotic circular motion Kinsella's voice adorned with guest female vocalists (Powell, Williams, Goswell) Minimalist lyrics and minimal touch in other musical ways (textured but not overbearing) Each instrument delineated (detailed engineering and fastidious mix) Enjoyable up close or at a distance Stand out tracks (the 1st 3) - 1. Silhouettes 2. Every Wave To Ever Rise (featuring Elizabeth th Powell) 3. Uncomfortably Numb - not to be confused with Pink Floyd (featuring Hayley Williams) Critics speak - https://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/american-football-american-football-lp3/ https://consequenceofsound.net/2019/03/album-review-american-football-lp3/

It's true -- thoughts happen to us -- for the most part we don't will them. And when they arrive, unannounced and with their own agenda, we greet them with a collection of other involuntary thoughts. So the question is: where is 'me'. Is this the inherent randomness of mind, or is it our inability to grasp the overall complexity of mind? Read on: https://aeon.co/ideas/we-arent-really-in-control-so-why-worry-about-neurointerventions?utm_source=Aeon+Newsletter&utm_campaign=c1836b4d3f-EMAIL_CAMPAIGN_2019_03_27_11_06&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_411a82e59d-c1836b4d3f-68680125

From the Greeks, to Aquinas and Christianity, to Hume who said habit allows us to grasp the notion of cause and effect - 'causality ... is little more than habitual association' -- and now, because of neuroscience, to the efficient brain that does not have to consider the detail of every act from the ground up -- it relies on habit. Read on https://aeon.co/ideas/a-philosophical-approach-to-routines-can-illuminate-who-we-really-are

Tacit knowledge, data and computers -- where man and machine are carving their territory in the new economy. Where the State can wield so much influence by forecasting supply and demand, by setting prices to determine the quanta of exchange and, by consequence, the economic quality of our lives. Xi Jinping, the Americans and Israel already know this -- and so do the silent 1 percenters, the landlords of most of the space (real and cyber) and assets we use. https://aeon.co/essays/big-data-ai-and-the-peculiar-dignity-of-tacit-knowledge?utm_source=Aeon+Newsletter&utm_campaign=004cceafeb-EMAIL_CAMPAIGN_2019_03_25_04_45&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_411a82e59d-004cceafeb-68680125

Alta Mar De tanta angustia que me roe, guardo un silencio que se unifica a la entraña del océano. En la noche cuando los hombres duermen, mis ojos haciendo tríptico con el farol del palo mayor, velan con el fervor de un lampadario ante la inmensidad del universo. El austro sopla trayendo a los muertos cuyas sombras húmedas de sal acarician mi cabellera desordenada. Agonizando vivo y el mar está a mis pies y el firmamento coronando mis sienes. -- Written by Teresa Wilms Montt, 10 June 1919, aboard el Daryo *** High Sea So much anguish that corrodes me, I keep a silence that unifies to the bowels of the ocean. At night when the men sleep, my eyes making triptych with the lantern of the main mast fervently keep vigil like a lampadarium before the immensity of the universe. The Austro blows bringing the dead whose humid shadows of salt caress my untidy hair. Agonizing I live and the sea is at my feet and the firmament   crowning my temples. -- Translated by Wilson

Music Matters Talking about Music – the Albums that Matter most … Felipe’s List Two close-to-perfection contributions from the fab 4 – ‘Abbey Road’, their last and best, and ‘Let It Be’ (naked) without Spector’s luxuriant production. Steely Dan’s ‘Aja’ – with Larry Carlton assisting Becker and Fagen, and who can recover from Steve Gadd’s drum solo – and ‘Gaucho’ despite its ambition and imperfections.  ‘The Game’ by Queen – when the band fired on all cylinders – with all members contributing radio-friendly songs, arrangements, musicianship and ego – and the cool German at the console mixing a grittier, live sound – May somewhat intoxicated when he recorded the solo for ‘Dragon Attack’ (one of his best) – if only he did more of that. ‘Toto IV’ because it epitomises the west-coast sound that went on to sell the biggest thing in recorded history – Jackson’s ‘Thriller’ could not have happened without the Toto boys – Quincy went looking for that crossove

Funny and clever poetry – such a delicious combination. For those of us with an ex, we know what it is to be submerged in the ‘water under the bridge’ … and Julian’s ex, like mine, also happens to be Italian! "Boun appetito" Boxing Day by Julian Stannard The dogs are going crazy. I think Mother slipped them some amphetamines. A truly enormous ham is being cooked and the dogs are becoming idiotic and psychotic. My ex-wife is late which is good and not so good. Mother pulsates. Welcome, ex-wife, have some ham. I watch Mother slicing slicing slicing. Two pieces of ham for ex-wife, and three pieces of ham for me. O Bethlehem!                         O Bethlehem! In England we eat boiled ham, Mother says. Do you like boiled ham? Mother asks ex-wife. Ex-wife says, I have been to West Ham, I may have taken the wrong line. After the enormous ham Mother shouts, Pudding! and off she walks to the special shed. I am left with ex-wife.   Shall